


Taken Care Of

by CowboyEnthusiast



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Arthur, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 19:58:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17835179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CowboyEnthusiast/pseuds/CowboyEnthusiast
Summary: Arthur always seems to get the worst end of everything. As a bad cold spreads through the gang, Arthur tries to all that he can to help, and of course happens to get sick himself.





	Taken Care Of

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! It's my first fic! Comments are welcome! And I hope you enjoy it! :0

It's been raining for about a week straight. Mud stained everything and one could never seem to find themselves completely dry, always covered in muck and soaked to the bone. It was made worse by chill of the fall weather and dwindling daylight. Nights growing colder and the constant showers, everyone was not without the bitterness that follows from living under these conditions.

When someone finally catch ill, no one could honestly say that they were surprised. And in all truthfulness they knew it would most likely spread to two or three more because of their close lifestyle. A small cold, they all had been expecting that. What caught everyone in shock was to how many were infected and how bad the little cold got.

It first started out with a simple sniffle from Sean. A persistent runny nose and muffled coughs that soon Karen found herself with as well. People around camp teased the two for perhaps sharing a little too much 'personal space’ a bit. Those jokes soon died when people began having more pressing concerns as more and more people fell ill.

Eventually about half the camp was sick. The cold developing into constant coughs, aches and pains, and for the more worse cases, nausea and fever. Those who found themselves unwell were moved to one end of the camp, as they tried to form an area of containment in hopes of not giving it to even more members. The one with lesser symptoms delegated between the two sides, healthy and not, bringing food and care to the others. 

Things were tense, and they got even more tense when Hosea found himself unwell. Dutch, who was already trying to calm and comfort everyone and raise morale, found himself nearly sick himself with worry over the older man. Bringing him food and sitting with him, even as Hosea persistently insisted Dutch not worry and stay so close as to not get sick. Dutch simply wouldn't. And everyone could see how quickly Dutch was becoming frazzled. The pressure of the camp's health and especially now Hosea's weighing heavily on his shoulders. He tried his best to go out with the few healthy members and hunt for food and get money for essentials. Though those duties he began filing less and less as he became more insistent with staying with Hosea. The job falling almost entirely on Arthur.

Not that Arthur had minded that much. He had already been running around constantly providing for the unwell. He barely seemed to be at camp for more that mere minutes. Returning only to deliver supplies and then leaving right away to gather more. He hadn't slept peaceful or much at all since the whole situation began. His worry for the safety of the others at the front of his mind, and his need to try and do something to help, anything to help. 

His horse heaved with the effort of trudging through the thick mud. The camp was insight, the tents painted against the gray sky and slimy ground. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, a small comfort and blessing maybe on this day.

Arthur was looking forward to getting back to camp. The back of his horse loaded with the corpse of a deer, matted in mud and hanging limply. The meat would be good and Arthur was anxious to get it back. He chewed on his lip and flexed his hands around the reins has he got closer. He wanted to check up on Dutch and Hosea before he heads out again, a nagging fear in the back of his mind that both would be seriously unwell and he wasn't there to help, or that he wasn't providing enough to help which meant he had to leave. A vicious cycle of wanted to stay and knowing he had to leave. And while he felt his chest grow tight, he hoped it was from worry and not from having caught something, that was the last thing he needed.

He jumped off his horse even before he came to a full stop. Taking the deer from the back and slinging it over his shoulder. The wet smack of muck and blood hitting his back. His boots sinking deep as he made his way over to Pearson. 

“Ah Arthur back with something good I hope?” Pearson said in a way of greeting as Arthur slumped the deer on the table.  
Arthur grunted in confirmation, “how's everyone doing?”  
Pearson moved to begin preparing the deer for a meal, “Ah well Mary-beth is starting to be on the mend, her fever broke last night I believe. As for the others… mostly the same. Some getting a little better, that's got to be something.”  
“Well let's just hope they continue getting better” Arthur said ending with a, turning to walk off towards the tents.  
“Let's just hope no one else gets sick, god knows we need a break” Pearson called after him.

“How ya doing?” Arthur asked entering Hosea's tent.   
Dutch sat to the side of Hosea's cot, leaning back seemly to have been reading before Arthur came in. Hosea sat upright, back propped up by a few pillows and he himself also had an open book he put down.  
“I'm doing fine. Y'all need to stop being such worrywarts” Hosea said annoyed with a slight teasing tone. “It's a little cough, I don't even have the fever anymore, you are just ridiculous.”  
“Hosea, my dear friend, don't take such insult to such care” said Dutch, “Be happy you're not losing your mind with boredom with being bedridden.”  
“Bedridden for no good reason if you ask me.”  
“A precaution.”  
“A foolish precaution if you ask me, Dutch. I'm not going to fall over, I'm on the mend, hell I'm faring much better than some others.”  
“Oh just enjoy the reading time until you don't weeze each time you get up.”  
Hosea look exasperated at Dutch, shaking his head slightly, as Dutch turned to Arthur.  
“So Arthur, tell me what you've been getting up too.”  
“Hunting mostly,” Arthur replied as he took a set by Dutch, a feeling of something tickling the back of his throat, “just got back from killing a good sized deer. Just wanted to check up on ya old men before I head out.”  
“Good.. good, and while I'll choose to ignore that last remark I can say we are doing fine. Better than before at least.” Hosea huff a little at that as Dutch continued, “And as you can see Hosea is clearly back to his old old self.”   
Arthur grinned a bit a nodded, feeling the persistent tug of his lungs, he balled up his fist a gave a quick cough into his hand.   
“Now Arthur don't tell me that you're coming down as well. We need you healthy son.” Dutch said, looking warily at Arthur, arms crossed, “You are one of few strong remaining.”  
“Oh it's nothing.” Arthur replied, “Just a little cough from my lungs being unpet from all this rain.”  
“It better be nothing son, we need you healthy, more than ever.”  
“I promise you it's nothing. A little irritation, nothing to blow out-a proportion.” And with that, and a little huff from Hosea, the three continued on in light conversation, all the while Arthur tried to ignore the nagging sensation of coughs resting at the back of his throat.

It turned out to be much more than nothing. It got harder and harder to try and keep from coughing, to the point he'd excuse himself and let out series of hard coughs almost making himself hoarse a couple times. He began feeling too hot and sweaty for someone constantly out in the cool weather. Though Arthur tried to pay his own well being little mind, more focused on making sure others recoved. Almost all were on the mend, the camp was no longer filled with the sound of sniffles and coughs coming from multiple people all the time. Arthur still didn't stop running errands though. Not wanted to take a moment for things to go downhill again, making sure everything was set up for the climb upwards. He wouldn't rest till everyone was okay and this thing was behind them.

Hosea was finally not under the unwavering watch of Dutch as he began being able to move around with little discomfort and no longer that persistent wheeze that had haunted Dutch for days. And both soon returned to helping the camp in plenty, Arthur still not taking a break though. He continued to go out and bring back supplies and money that he could scrounge up. His lungs always feeling as though they didn't have enough air, and his brow always moist, muscles seemingly screaming at him to rest.

The day was clear, and the sun could actually be seen for once, everyone seemed to be okay, out of the woods, healthy or at least extremely close to being there. Arthur was coming back from robbing a stagecoach, an easy job as the folks inside were new to the country and not aware of just how dangerous it could be. He made it away with about a hundred dollars worth in cash and jewelry. 

He had been feeling terrible all day, a headache having found seemingly a permanent residence behind his eyes. Constantly coughing, hot and sticky, with muscles taunt and having a deep rooted pain settled in them. He swallowed a his breath in Hope of nulling his persistent cough as he got close to the camp. He was completely covered in sweat and he knew that it was unacceptable for that amount to cling to his sky, and he tried to wipe some off on his hands and then onto his pants. 

Dutch had met his gaze upon returning to camp, walking towards Arthur as he dismounted his horse. He saw Dutch's brows turn in confusion and his walk increase, Arthur thinking that was a little strange and then he realized his legs had never straightened out and supported him after his dismount. Instead he continued to keep falling, knees buckling underneath him as his vision swam downward. Blurry as the world moved too fast to meet him.

The next thing he knew was Dutch tapping his face, muffled noises as he looked his in the eyes. Arthur shut his eyes tightly, and forced them open, blinking a few time gaining his barings trying to focus on what exactly Dutch was saying, shakely moving his arms and trying to get up. Slowly the dull noise turned to words as Dutch stopped tapping his face and instead pulling on Arthur's shoulders, helping him sit up.  
“Arthur! Son, are you alright? What the hell happened?” Arthur tried to clear his throat, instead resulting in a choked cough. Dutch heavily patted him on the back, “There, there, Arthur just breathe.”  
“I-I'm fine Dutch” Arthur croaked out, Dutch looking at him disbelievingly.  
“Uh-huh, and I'm the first lady, c'mon” Dutch stood and pulled Arthur to his feet, holding onto his shoulders as Miss Grimshaw and Hosea finally made it over. Dutch looked him in the eyes, noticing the sheen of sweat that covered him. Putting his hand against his forehead, month turned to a tight frown, brows srutched up. “Alright, well you need to rest, you might just be overheated.”  
Moving to Arthur's side, Dutch put his hand on the small of Arthur's back and slowly ushered his forward. Giving Hosea and Grimshaw a confused look and flicking his head to try and dismiss them both. Miss Grimshaw huffed out something between a sign of relief and irritation before leaving. Meanwhile Hosea didn't leave, instead stepping along with Dutch on Arthur's other side.

Hosea opened Arthur's tent flap, concern lacing his features as Arthur stumbled and sharing a look with Dutch. Dutch returned the look and pulled Arthur towards his cot.

Sitting down Arthur twaved away Dutch's hands as he took his jacket and boots off.  
“Listen I'm fine. No need for all this.”  
Dutch moved back half a step to give him some room, but made no move to leave right away, Hosea came up and stood beside the leader.  
Arthur looked up at them, exasperated, “I'm fine!”  
“Son you're are not looking all 'fine’,” Dutch spoke, crossing his arms. “You look like you fell off your horse, and well you did, so you're obviously not fine.”  
Hosea moved over laying his hand on Arthur's forehead, much like Dutch, he wasn't pleased with the results. “You need some rest Arthur, then can discuss if you're fine or not.” Hosea said, his voice leaving no room for arguments, Dutch agreeing.  
“I'm fine.” Arthur quitely grumbled, laying down as Hosea and Dutch looked him over one more time with their gazes before leaving.

He remembers grudgingly waking up, lungs on fire, a wet cloth on his forehead and some muffled talking in the background. Arthur tried to move his head letting out a groan as a Sharp pain rushed through his head. Closing his eyes tightly and upon opening them he saw a figure hovering close, trying to get in his field of vision. Arthur slowly tried to focused on the silhouette. And soon Arthur found himself, through half lidded eyes, staring at a very concerned Dutch.   
“Hey you with us?” Dutch spoke softly, like he was trying to act calm though his eyes and body language negated this. He was tense and fidgety, wringing his hands together as he looked at Arthur.  
As Arthur tried to respond he was cut of by a rough cough, sending himself into a fit and trying to catch his breath as Dutch rubbed his arm in an attempt of comfort.  
“That's it, just clear it out, and breath son,” Dutch kept uttering small comforts until it passes leaving Arthur a trembling and weezing mess. He looked to Dutch curiously, trying to piece together what exactly has happened since the last time he was awake.  
Dutch, seeming to understand spoke again, “You still have a fever, but it's better now… can you hear me? You gave us quite a scare… Arthur?” While Arthur wanted to respond, he couldn't find the strength to. “Arthur.. son it'll be alright, trust me, you'll be alright.” Dutch repeated the lane several time before Arthur found himself closing his eyes against his wishes. While he wanted get up, get Dutch to stop worrying needlessly after him, he couldn't help but feel exhausted. His body ached and his head and lungs hurt in ways he had known before. He wanted to believe Dutch, that all will be fine, so he did, and let his mind slip away as Dutch's words slowly fading.

The next couple of times he gained conciseness, it wasn't for long, in a sweat of the raging fever and pain, he remembers someone always being by his side. Dutch, Hosea, sometimes both. Both concerned faces, gently talking to him and though he couldn't make out their words, the tones carried his frantic mind to rest each time. 

When he woke up next, fully able to regain his barings, he found himself still laying on his cot, lukewarm towel over his brow, and feeling slightly more human than he has in a while. Less terrible, his head still ached but it was a dull ache, he no longer felt unnecessarily hot though old sweat stained him. His body still felt tired, but it wasn't that bone deep exhaustion he had become used to.   
Looking around he found his tent occupied by two others. Dutch was slumped in a chair pulled close, head resting on the cot. Hosea, seated next to him, arms crossed and head tucked into his chest; both sound asleep.  
Arthur found himself giving a small grin. Taking in the two men, both he would consider father figures, resting and while he didn't really like to admit it- so concerned with his well being. Both seeming to have been with him through the worst of his illness, always there. It made him feel almost welcomed, if that was a way to describe it. While he cared for them, sometimes he didn't know how far it was given back, but this dulled that doubt in his mind. It truly felt nice to know that they cared for him as he did for them.


End file.
